Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

You must be fucking joking. I'm supposed to eat burnt up eggs that they fucked up because the waitress is at the end of a long day? Fuck that. Send them back politely and pray they aren't sauteed in spit.

Word.

TM

My friends know me so well.
 

"Zero marketing"? Yeah, planting an article isn't marketing.

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

all the stories I've heard of restaurant people spitting, coming, etc. in food are not revenge based for a send back . they are all based upon hate for the average diner at the restaurant. They want to fuck with the food of anyone who would cause them to have to work where they work.

My sample is the guy in Fight Club, and 1 cook I've heard of who gobbed on hamburgers because he hated anyone who could afford to eat at the place he worked. Note that Fight Club was supposedly based upon true stories the author had heard.

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

You'll have to ask shifty if plastic and vaseline mix.

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

You're such a complainer. At least you didn't need a liver.

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

I ate at Nob Hill (a nice restaurant in Vegas) with my girlfriend awhile back. She ordered the veal chop (I think) medium rare and it came well done. She didn't want to send it back and was going to eat it. I told her not to and politely told the waitress that it was well done. She graciously took it back, apologized and returned with the chef and a complimentary glass of wine for my gf to enjoy while she waited for them to cook a new one. The next cut was absolutely deeeelicious.

Best service we ever had (including the table we got, which always surprises us because we tend to get put near the kitchen).

Good restaurants are embarrassed by mistakes like that and you should call them to their attention.

TM

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

I have a friend with Food Issues. Going out with her is a fucking pain in the ass because every order is a complicated, convoluted recreation of something on the menu. More often than not, the order gets fucked up, and she ends up sending stuff back. I ALWAYS order the simplest thing to prepare on the menu when I go out with her in the hopes that the inevitable fall out from the kitchen doesn't extend to her tablemates.

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

Hmm. Did you do this just to confuse me?

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

I openly ridicule these people to the wait staff in an attempt to lighten the mood, hoping to avoid the "Hey Rocko, piss in their soup" comments upon putting the order in.

TM

This fall, on HBO
 

This fucking network ... you can just never cancel it. Ricky Gervais's new show will be on HBO next month.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/08/19/ar...wanted=1&8hpib

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

Needs some hyphens.

TM

Interruptus Again
 

Thanks for all the comedy suggestions. Ultimately, "date night" ended up with me rolling around the top of my bedspread with my S/O in every sexual position known to mankind so we didn't get the chance to hit the video store. (I thought we had needed a comedy to lighten things up but, ahem, it seemed something else was needed.)

Anyhoo, quick question on computer music. I do a decent amount of downloading songs and I'd like better sound quality than the wimpy (but not too bad) speakers that came with my Dell flat screen computer purchased about 2 years ago. I have an old crappy stereo and speakers in the front room but rather than upgrade that one, any thoughts on whether good speakers could be added to the computer in the bedroom? Basically, what do I need to make the computer the source of some good quality funk?

(Yes, this question is sex-related because the whole point is to shag on the new shag rug -- they're back in you know-- in the little alcove to the bedrom, preferably to the sounds of some recent downloaded tunes which of course include my bad, bad girl, Fionna.)

Yeah, yeah I know. "Take it to the Politics Board, Keaton".

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

It's a sliding scale. Burnt eggs? Send them back. Rye instead of wheat toast? Suck it up.

You're exactly right about the nicer restaurants, though -- they want you to tell them when there is a problem.

And, based upon my experience working in nice, sorta nice, and not so nice restaurants, your food is safe unless you are a complete prick. The only time I saw anything was when a guy (not my customer) had sent back a filet mignon he ordered medium well (bad idea, btw) several times, culminating in a complaint that it was tough, and he wanted a new one. The new one was bounced off the floor several times, and since the cook was a mean bastard under the best of circumstances, and was at that point frothing at the mouth with a huge cleaver in his hand, no one said anything to him about it.

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

Sorry. The guy was white, and he was identified as a professor of African American history.

Excuse me, your Freudian slip is showing.
 

And commas.